


you're in my veins

by englandziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, this is quite sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5314496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englandziam/pseuds/englandziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Zayn brushes his lips over the crinkles pressed around Liam’s eyes and thinks that the ‘I love you’ whispered over his skin holds a certain safety and comfort that’ll never compare to anything else</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're in my veins

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago but only found it yesterday hiding on my laptop so thought I'd post it :)
> 
> It's very short but still a bit sad, and to do with Zayn leaving so take that as a warning??.

There’s a sharp wind dragging blades over Zayn’s skin, cold patters of rain falling from heavy clouds that cling to his lashes and numb his shaking hands.

The grey canopy hangs over a dull canvas, the city below a dreary blur. He closes his eyes to listen to the obnoxious hiss of car horns, a clatter of lightning cutting through the dark awning and a whisper of voices twisting through every street corner.

He drags another cigarette from the packet tucked into his back pocket, lighting up and clinging to the familiar taste, the rough burn deep in his throat. Anything to stop the shaking of his fingers, the familiar sinking in his stomach.  

His phone rumbles in his pocket, _‘Mum’_ flashing across the screen beneath a blur of raindrops. He declines it, rushing through another cigarette to ease away the dull ache and suffocating guilt in his chest.  He can’t bear to hear her voice – one word will spill tears.  

He misses them –

misses Safaa’s innocent laugh and the way Waliyha’s eyes light up when she shows him her art book, fluorescent colours delicately stroked across each page. Late night talks with Doniya, under the covers with a torch painting a soft glow their faces – the same they’ve done since they were little. His mum singing as she cooks, a little off-key and the lyrics muddled but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He misses them all piling onto him when he gets home, the six of them standing there with his mum hushing content sobs into his neck and his Baba protectively curled around them all.

He feels like he’s suffocating, trapped in this huge city that he can’t even remember the name of.

He grips the railing of the balcony until his knuckles turn white and he’s choking back tears that won’t come. His body is numb, the rain soaking through his shirt and the emotion draining from him as he bites harshly over the soft flesh of his lip. 

Maybe he’s drowning. He can feel the oxygen sliding over his tongue but it’s mostly smoke sinking into his every breath.

He thinks of London, how it looks a little similar to the view he’s absorbed in but it’s somehow different. The sound is softer at home, more calming than this one – and the sun always seeps an orangey glow across the sky. Here the sky is empty, an oil painting of graphite and charcoals.

Maybe a little bit like him.

He hisses a laugh between his wrecked lips and declines another call.

He craves to be back at his flat, no – _Liam’s_ flat. He wants that warmth to spread over his skin as soon as he walks in, the comforting scent of coffee and mint and the familiar undertone of burning because Liam’s never been the best at cooking. He longs to be pressed into the deep cushions of that same sofa, a fraying blanket around his shoulders. There are others, but it’s always the same because, well – he’s been a bit attached since him and Liam shared headphones under that quilt at the X Factor house years ago. The first time they had sex, messy hands and muffled giggles underneath the blankets, cuddles afterwards with lips pressed over the coffee-stained birthmark on Liam’s neck. A faint blush freckled over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, caramel eyes crinkled around the edges and a shy smile that still ignites something wonderful. 

He presses his tongue over his bottom lip, searching for anything other than nicotine and the burn scratching at the back of his throat. He takes another drag, wiping a sleeve over his phone screen and staring at the picture of him and his mum.

Bright smiles, an arm curled around her waist at some red carpet event. They’re all the same, piercing screams and interviewers hungry for a new rumour. Camera flashes and a member of management demanding something of them.

He stabs out his cigarette and exhales a shaky breath, shifting memories through his mind to find something a little more comforting to cling onto.

 

++

 

He’s draped over one of the uncomfortable hotel sofas when the door is pulled open, light from the hallway pouring a soft beige over the carpet.

Liam kicks off his shoes and flips on a lamp in the corner of the room, highlighting every freckle placed carefully over his skin.

Zayn watches as he fumbles with the key, dropping it onto the side and tossing his phone into his bag. He can’t look away, eyes blinking over the strands of hair messily fraying over his forehead and the way his tongue is poking out between his lips in concentration as he fiddles with the light to brighten the room.

His exposed tummy when he pulls off his hoodie and leaves one of Zayn’s t-shirts underneath, a little stretched over his broad shoulders with shimmers of light dancing over his tanned skin. The birthmark pressed a little off-centre to his neck, a smear of laughter lines around his eyes when he turns to Zayn, and the soft _‘Hey’_ mumbled into a yawn behind the sleeve of his shirt.

Zayn thumbs down the corner of his page and tosses the book to the floor when Liam drops down beside him, arms immediately dragging him closer.

Zayn ducks his head and exhales a slow breath over Liam’s collarbone, eyes fluttering shut at the kiss whispered into his hair.

“Me and Lou found this sick light display,” Liam says quietly, a smile echoing through his voice. Zayn sneaks a glance to see the familiar excitement dragged over each feature, the same as whenever Liam is eager to talk about something. “It reminded me f’one of your paintings, y’ know the one with the red and green lights.”

Zayn nods, humming over Liam’s skin and burying a frown into the crook of his neck.

“I’m gonna take you there tomorrow,” he says softly, and Zayn can feel fingertips running down his arms, over the ink stained to his skin.

Zayn mumbles a low _‘s’cool, babes’_ over Liam’s Adam’s apple, listening to Liam shiver when cold fingers are dragged under his shirt, over his stomach.

It goes quiet for a moment and Liam pulls Zayn into his lap, hands gentle at his thighs.

There are lips in his hair, a kiss pressed over his forehead.

“You’ve been thinking,” Liam says after a moment, his voice quiet and careful and almost a whimper as he wraps an arm around Zayn’s waist and sighs over his temple.

He glances at Liam reluctantly as gentle hands cup his neck and pull him back, those cinnamon and honey eyes staring and causing Zayn to look away, shyly.

He doesn’t know what to say, a tiny _‘yeah’_ catching at his tongue and fanning out between his lips.

He can’t look at Liam as he thinks of the fights, the pounding in his ears as he’d shouted, Liam’s lost eyes threatening tears and the way he’d lashed out at the cupboard leaving angry bruises over his knuckles.

Being woken at five in the morning to Liam’s sobs and the apologies, the ‘ _I know how much you need this’_ and _‘I’m going to help you through this, okay babe?’_

He ignores the fingers brushing over the knobs of his spine and flashes another look towards Liam.

“Yeah,” he says again, biting along his bottom lip. “And I. I can’t do this anymore.”

He lets the guilt seep into his veins as he watches Liam’s eyes flutter shut, the somewhat twist of his heart at the sigh pouring from Liam’s lips.

He doesn’t expect the kiss brushed over his mouth, Liam’s fingers shifting into his hair. He warms to the familiar taste of spearmint and Earl Grey, a whimper clinging to his lips as the pads of Liam’s fingers press soft touches over his neck, nails scratching gently at the fantail inked to his skin.

“I know,” Liam mumbles when he pulls away, only slightly, so that his lips are still mumbling words over Zayn’s.

Zayn opens his eyes, his stomach dropping at the tears clinging to Liam’s eyelashes. He catches them with his lips, salt pressing over his tongue as he nuzzles his nose over Liam’s skin and wraps his arms around Liam’s neck.

“Babes,” Zayn whispers, exhaling shaky breaths as he listens to Liam’s heart rattle away in his ribcage. “I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay,” Liam mumbles under his breath, a half-hearted smile pushing to his lips. It’s sad, miserable crinkles smudged around his eyes and Zayn can’t stand it. “M’ sorry I can’t make it better for you. I can’t make you happy and I, you don’t know how fucking sorry I am for that.”

Zayn shakes his head, desperately clutching onto Liam’s shirt as he whines a disapproving noise.

“Leeyum,” he chokes out, kissing over the rough stubble on Liam’s jaw. “S’not you. _Fuck_ , you make me so happy, babe. You – you’re the only thing that’s been making me stay.”

Liam buries a kiss into Zayn’s neck, brushing away his tears into the collar of Zayn’s jumper.

“I love you,” he whispers, and it cuts straight through Zayn’s chest. He feels selfish, like somebody is dragging a knife through his middle.

The arms wrapped around his torso tighten, protectively, and Zayn hides a tiny smile into Liam’s neck, mumbling a kiss over his splatter of a birthmark.

“I love you so much,” Zayn says softly, carding his fingers through thick hair. “Ever since we listened to Chris Brown in the car on the way to rehearsals, _meri jaan_.”

“You held my hand and I wouldn’t look at you for the rest of the journey,” Liam says quietly through a hiccupped giggle, a small smile dragged over Zayn’s hairline.

They fall silent, Liam sniffling into Zayn’s hair and brushing a soft hand over his hips.

Zayn bites over his lip, pushing down the sinking feeling in his stomach and focusing on the irregular breaths sighed over his forehead.

“We’re – we’re going t’be okay, yeah?” Liam asks in a whisper, and Zayn can hear the hitch in his throat as he waits quietly. “You’ll still be there every time I get home?”

Zayn pulls away and chases a kiss over Liam’s mouth, pressing his fingertips over Liam’s neck.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, Leeyum,” he coaxes softly, eyelids fluttering as he blinks back tears. “That’ll never change, babe, no matter how much does.”

 Zayn brushes his lips over the crinkles pressed around Liam’s eyes and thinks that the _‘I love you’_ whispered over his skin holds a certain safety and comfort that’ll never compare to anything else.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ...on a happier note, I now have a [tumblr!](http://englandziam.tumblr.com/)


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